walker, right over
by anebear
Summary: ally walker, hunter, 21.. trouble. winchester boys, hunters, 19, 23.. even more trouble. see how their two stories come together.
1. Meeting the Winchesters

It's now or never, Ally. Just go in there and get it over with. Sure it's a creepy, damp hole of a shack, and you are sure to be facing a dangerous and potentially angry spirit in there, but hey! you were the one who signed up for this job. And you've faced worse.

SHUT UP! My god, that voice in the back of my head was going to be the death of me. Luckily, it was only times like this that brought it out, but I still dreaded the moment when it made its debut with the usual "don't do this ally" "don't be stupid ally". And to my frustration the voice always sounded like my mothers.

But it was this voice that had me pushing myself harder on every single job I did. This voice made me save people. That thought was what made me keep going every day, even when things seemed so bad that I thought I would never make it.

My name is Ally Walker... and I'm a hunter. I don't hunt animals. I hunt demons, ghosts, spirits, you name it. Anything that seems to be endangering the lives of humans. The world of supernatural is guarded safely against ordinary people, I hate to imagine what the world would be like if everything was out in the open.

I feel guilty sometimes, after killing someone who was possessed or worse, but then they weren't human, so surely I wasn't to blame for their death? As far as I was concerned they were dead to the world, when they turned into something unnatural.

I suppose I was born into hunting. My mother died when I was a baby, leaving me up to my dad. I didn't have a normal, white-wash, suburban neighbourhood upbringing, but I didn't feel like I was missing out on anything. While the kids in town were playing with dolls, I was learning how to shoot with a gun, throw knifes, and perform complex exorcism rituals. Something that no one would dream a 7 year old girl could do. But I stacked up against the odds.

Growing up learning these things forged a unique bond between me and my father. I was mature beyond my years, and he trusted me so infinitely that I embarked on my first hunt when I was 10. It was a spirit, nothing too big, but for the first time, I felt wonderful. Like hunting was a job meant for me, waiting for me to find it, and being there with my dad, my best friend, was making this a moment to remember.

Everything was perfect. Until exactly one week ago, when my father went missing. He was laying low somewhere in Texas, working out the information for his next hunt, and he vanished. I was in Virginia, hunting a werewolf, and hadn't heard from him in a while. I found this strange as he always called me during my hunts; more than once. Often just to talk, nothing to do with the hunt. But this time, I had nothing, and that scared the hell out of me.

I stayed on to finish off the werewolf, and floored it straight back to Texas, with a feeling in my gut telling me something was dreadfully wrong. When I reached the little shack just outside the towns borders my shackles went up. There was a peculiar smell in the air, which drifted down to me, whispering secrets in my ears. I edged to the cabin, and pushed on the bruised door. It was open. Jeffrey Walker never left his door unlocked.

I entered the cabin and my heart sank. The room had been overturned; there were multiple signs of a struggle. Dad had put up a good fight. I scowered the room for any evidence, anything that would help me pick up the trail. Nothing. Apart from the general mess of the room, I could see nothing.

But then I realised I had overlooked something. The smell was not as strong in the cabin as it was outside. How odd. I headed back outside, and the scent nearly knocked me over. I looked around the cabin and very nearly missed the very cause of the smell. Ectoplasm. Thick and oozing around the edges of the windows. So that's how they got in. Dad had tried to put up salt but he'd been too late.

Why did they want him, of all people? It was a question I was still asking myself, one week later.

I sighed, and headed to the motel.

I pulled my dodge charger into the parking area at the motel. As I climbed out of my baby, I noticed another classic American muscle car- a Chevrolet impala. Not bad, I thought, admiring the ride. When I entered the reception room, I noticed I was not alone. There were two guys, around the same age as me, one maybe a little younger than I was. The older one, or so I thought, seemed to be hitting on the woman working at the counter. At least, until he saw me.

He smiled at me, in a grainy "I know you want me" kind of way. I smirked.

"Nice ride you've got there, 1967?" I asked, enjoying the way his expression changed from lust to surprise.

"That's right. So you're a car girl?" He answered back, winking. The 3 of us walked out of the reception room together and back to the car park.

I smiled and pointed to my dodge. "That's my baby." I sighed. Oh, how I loved my car.

The flirty one immediately moved to the car to get a closer look. He was murmuring to himself in approval. I smiled to myself. Boys and their cars.

However, his companion looked to me like he didn't really care about the car. He noticed me looking at him and gave me a half smile. My overall judgement of him was that he looked a little nerdy but nice enough.

I cleared my throat. "Er, I'm Ally. Ally Walker. Nice to meet you." I debated about sticking out my hand but decided against it.

The flirty boy answered first. "I'm Dean. And this is my brother Sam. Winchester."

I smiled. Winchester. Who would have thought?


	2. First Thing in The Morning

Tuesday.

Two days after I met the Winchesters things were going smoothly. They had no idea who I really was, and I intended to keep it that way. No way were they going to find out about the real Ally Walker. My family, my past...

"Ally? ALLY!"

I jumped and looked around guiltily; it seemed I had been day dreaming. Sam was looking at me, and probably waiting for me to answer his question. I ran my hands through my hair, grimacing at the rugged feel of it. I needed a new hair style. I almost pushed this thought away but then a reckless, stupid and needy thought came over me, what the hell; it was my life and I wanted to do something for me even if it cut into our hunting time.

"I'm going out. Be back in a few." I announced. Sam and Dean looked at each other, then at me. Confused. Dean opened his mouth, probably to argue, but then closed it again. Sam shrugged and lowered his head back to the screen of his laptop. Dean, after a puzzled look at me, followed suit. I smiled; they probably thought I was going out to do some solo investigating. Hahaha.

I walked outside and climbed into my pride and joy. Hmm, while I was out, I might as well get the car cleaned up, I thought. I drove to the town centre, where the best shops were, and dropped the car off at a local car wash, promising to come back within an hour or two. Then, off to the shops.

Man, it had been too long since I had engaged in some retail therapy. I was defiantly making up for that now, as I walked out of the Body Shop. Being a hunter, I was used to roughing it, which made this shop so much more desirable to me. I exited with a bag full of sweet smelling lotions and creams. Next came the clothes. I figured that some formal clothes may come in handy during my travels, considering the many false identities I had to use. So I came out of the Chanel, Louis Vuitton, and Prada shops with several more bags (I made sure to get some normal clothes too).

Money wasn't a problem, I had many fake credit cards, and due to a run in with a cursed rabbits foot, I had won a lot of money with my ill-fated luck. After buying lots of pairs of shoes, heels and flats, pretty and proper for work, I entered my last shop. It was a spur of the moment thing, and I wasn't even sure why I entered the lingerie shop. After all, who would I be showing my underwear off to? Sam, Dean? I think not. They were both handsome in their own ways but they knew as well as I that if we got involved in any way that wasn't purely professional, things would be awkward, hence the end of working together.

But I went in anyway, and bought a cute lavender teddy, and some other revealing pieces. That was that, and I finished my shopping spree by walking into the hair dresser.

I had never considered myself pretty, and I always found my mousy brown hair rather dull, so I decided to finally be brave and change it. I had striking blue eyes, so I ended up settling for a dark honey blonde. I smiled; I could hardly wait to see the reactions I got back at the motel.

The hairdresser and I chatted while my hair was being coloured. After it was finished, I paid and thanked Rosie (we were now on first name basis) and left to pick up the Dodge. When I picked up the car, I was pleased to notice that the attendant took a very long look at me, the new me. I was half way to the motel when my phone buzzed, announcing a caller- Sam.

"Hello Sam."

Sam sounded exasperated. "Ally, where are you? We have been waiting for you for about 45 minutes now! We are at the hospital, meet us there?"

"Of course, I won't be long." I hung up and ran into the motel room. I changed into a particularly lovely Chanel skirt suit and a pair of cream coloured Jimmy Choos. I stopped for a final look in the mirror before heading back to my car. I looked good.

The hospital gave me the creeps. All hospitals had since I saw a Critical Unit being wheeled in with 3rd degree burns. I was 7. And scarred for life. Ever since then, I avoided hospitals unless I absolutely needed to enter. I hurried through the corridors until I reached room 345.

"Hey, I'm so sorry I'm late, Agents," I said in a brisk voice, getting right down to business.

Sam and Dean turned around, expressions changing from annoyance to surprise... and lust. The lust, however, was exclusive to Dean. Sam just showed friendly interest with my new look. I ignored their expressions and turned to the patient sitting in the bed across the room.

"Hello Ma'am, I'm very sorry for your loss, but we need to talk about your husband," I said gravely. This was going to suck. I hated questioning witnesses first thing in the morning... especially in hospitals.


End file.
